


Papai

by gimmefire



Series: Papai [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-22
Updated: 2009-11-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He stared at the word </i>pregnant<i> for the millionth time and it still didn't make any sense.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Papai

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT MY FAULT. Blame [](http://pendingprogress.livejournal.com/profile)[**pendingprogress**](http://pendingprogress.livejournal.com/) and [this](http://25.media.tumblr.com/43cf235ef664eace06639a4d109acc50/tumblr_miu7h9796l1qkrlxso1_500.jpg) photo. Takes place the evening after this year's European GP. 'Papai' is Portuguese for Daddy. Cheers to a mildly apprehensive [evaine](archiveofourown.org/users/evaine) for the beta. ;)

"That's not possible," Rubens murmured, mystified.

Felipe stared down at the white plastic stick in his hands, equally mystified but not as vocal about it. He stared at the word _pregnant_ for the millionth time and it still didn't make any sense. Neither did the same word on the eight other tests he'd taken.

"That's _not_ possible," Rubens said again, more emphatically. Despite assurances over the phone from Felipe that he was okay - or that his head was okay, at least - the older Brazilian had flown back from Valencia on the first available flight, and Felipe has been confronted by the visibly anxious Rubens on his doorstep hours after the race had finished. He doubted that his own ashen face had helped matters.

Felipe shrugged hopelessly. It _wasn't_ possible. The doctors in Hungary had mentioned 'unusual biology' when examining his x-rays, but he'd been given so much information during his stay that frankly it had been the least of his worries. Now...

"I mean," Rubens sat down in front of him, finally ceasing pacing for a moment. "How is it going to...come out?"

"I _don't know_ ," Felipe snapped, eyes flicking up to glare at the other man. "You must have had the same science education as me, so it isn't going to come out of here, is it?!" he pointed to his crotch. He'd had most of the day to absorb this news and wasn't taking it particularly well; the fact that Rubens had barely had half an hour to process both the concept of male pregnancy and the notion that Felipe would soon be sporting a baby bump was escaping his notice at that moment. His frown deepened and he spoke without thought. "Yes, it is yours, before you ask."

Rubens's confused expression turned to one of hurt. "I never doubted that," he murmured. Felipe's frown faded and he sighed deeply, feeling tension he hadn't been truly aware of pressing down on his shoulders. He let the pregnancy test slip from his fingers. As it clattered to the hardwood floor, Felipe pushed his hands though his hair and let his head drop.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he mumbled into the crooks of his elbows.

After a few moments, he heard the chair in front of him creak and felt an arm slide across his shoulders. Gentle fingers tugged at Felipe's wrists and hands until his arms uncurled and he raised his head. Silently grateful for the physical contact, he turned his hopeless gaze to Rubens. "It _isn't_ possible, Rubinho," he concurred, shaking his head slowly. "But, I don't know, it...it..."

He didn't have it in him to explain how he had been feeling over the last few days. Askew? Sickly? Just a bit off? Like someone had taken his centre, the pinpoint of his soul, and moved it a little to the left? Scared that he was suddenly feeling alarming new effects of his head injury, he had perhaps foolishly kept quiet and prayed it would pass. He wasn't quite sure what had led him to purchase a home pregnancy test kit, but desperate men do desperate things. The result had answered one question and thrown up innumerable new ones.

Felipe looked down and rested a hand on his stomach. "It makes sense," he said softly.

Though he ached at the silence that followed, Felipe couldn't bring himself to say more or raise his eyes to gauge Rubens's reaction. Fortunately, he didn't need to.

"Okay," Rubens soothed, and there was nothing of that previous confusion in his voice. The arm at Felipe's back moved, fingertips kneading tight muscles at the nape of his neck. "C'mon, it's okay."

The words filtered through, their tone momentarily quelling the unease that had been growing inside him. Such simple platitudes were not enough, as some of those innumerable questions prevented him from relaxing against the man beside him. "What will Stefano say? God, what will _Luca_ say?" He finally looked up at Rubens, unable to provide answers for himself, and found the quiet calm of that familiar lopsided smile. There was something melancholic behind that expression; Felipe didn't dare ask why.

"They will be supportive," Rubens said softly. "Because you are Ferrari's little brother." He tilted his head to look at Felipe's stomach, covering Felipe's hand with his own. "Soon they will have a niece or nephew."

 _Niece or nephew_. The growing realisation that this wasn't a dream. The painless acceptance that went with that realisation. The warmth of Rubens's hand on his. _Niece or nephew_. Felipe felt lightheaded.

"I'm going to be a father," he said with a small, incredulous smile, wide eyed and sounding just as mystified as Rubens had earlier. Rubens actually laughed, that lopsided smile breaking into a full grin as he pulled Felipe closer and brought their foreheads together.

"So am I!"

The younger Brazilian sank backwards, feeling emotionally drained after such a tumultuous day. Rubens reclined with him, shifted onto his side and, once settled, his eyes never left Felipe's stomach. As he watched it rise and fall with each breath, Felipe in turn watched him. The silence that followed was comfortable.

"You're taking this better than I did," Felipe murmured eventually. Rubens smiled and shook his head, inadvertently nuzzling against Felipe's shoulder.

"It's amazing," Rubens murmured in awe, almost to himself. He took a deep breath, raising his eyes to look at Felipe sincerely. "You know, there were a couple of moments in Hungary when I wondered if I would ever see you again. I'm talking to you right now, and to me that's a miracle. This?" He caressed Felipe's stomach with the back of his hand. "This is a blessing."

A wide smile bloomed on Felipe's face, and he planted a kiss on Rubens's forehead in gratitude. He looked down again, sliding an arm around the older man's shoulders. "Because it has two fathers, do you think it'll be a boy?"

Rubens considered this for a moment. "Well, if it _is_ a boy, however supportive Ferrari are, we're not calling him Enzo. Or Luca, because there are too many of them already!"

"Okay, okay. No problem there." Felipe laughed softly. He rubbed his stomach. "A little Massa-Barrichello..."

"No no no, you have to think about seniority here," Rubens corrected earnestly. "It should be Barrichello-Massa."

Felipe snorted, abruptly rising out of his sentimental mood and leaning away from Rubens. "Just because you're an old senior doesn't mean your name gets pole position!"

Much to his dismay, however, Rubens was ignoring his protests and making far more controversial plans.

"The first present I'm going to buy our baby will be a Corinthians shirt."

"Now _wait a minute_..."


End file.
